And Whatever You Do, Don't Starve!
by Sherentine
Summary: Far beneath and between the ripples of reality are voids that are populated by foul creatures, the supernatural, and certain doom. When you have nothing but other people and your own wits to help you survive and somehow get out of this hell, starving is the least of your worries.
1. A New Beginning

"_You better find something to eat before nightfall_…"

Maxwell's words echoed within Wilson's head as he lay silently, his eyes closed. Encompassed under the darkness of his furry sleeping roll, he had awoken from an eventless dream to the sound of Maxwell's voice inside his head. He groaned, wiping a hand down his face and realizing he had been in a cold sweat. Very slowly shifting to one side, he felt particularly achy from the late Autumn cold despite the coziness of his sleeping roll. The crying of birds and the rush of the wind through pine needles filtered through his cocoon and to his ears, alerting him to the coming of pale morning. He opened his eyes and saw nothing but more darkness. Like yesterday morning, he woke feeling emotionless and depressed.

Wilson slowly stretched his lanky body vertically from his fingers to his toes, yawning enormously, and then lifted off the top cover. The vacant sky was a deep greyish blue, with wisps of thin cloud drawn out across the void like clumps of wet wool. His view of the sky was framed by the ominous pointed tips of the dark coniferous forest that surrounded him; they swayed listlessly in the brisk breeze, with the sound of robins and other small animals scurrying all around in the predawn. Wilson got to his knees, ran a hand through his dark unkept hair, and surveyed blearily about. His stomach growled as the sound of one of his rabbit traps moving came to his ears.

_Ah, finally!_

He tossed some logs over the diminished embers of last night's fire, opened up his neatly-arranged tool chest to grab his spear, and crunched over the night's frost to where the scurrying of a trapped animal was.

The process of ensnaring and killing small animals was no great deed to Wilson; even during his previous life as an esteemed chemist, physicist, and also inventor before he woke up on this damned island, he believed in no holds barred for the name of scientific progress. The fact that he was reduced at this point to using all this available testing material simply for sustenance made him even more bitter about even bothering to stay alive in this hell. What was the point if you had no new ideas to learn and nothing but wild, murderous nature to keep you company?

Wilson stoked the newly-created fire with a branch as the rabbit turned slowly on a spit. He sat on a stump quietly, observing the delicious morsel with hungry eyes. It was at times like these that he realized he was becoming much less gentleman-like and much more animal-like, to his disgust. He got up at once and immediately blocked thoughts of the cooking meat, walking over to his blueprint table near his crudely-crafted science machine. He rested his palms on either side of a few plans he had devised over the past couple of weeks to keep his sense of identity in check, leaned in and sighed heavily. The crackling of fire and the searing sound of roasting meat that still filled his ears was the only thing Wilson had anymore to look forward to in this kind of life. He was never a social man, but as of something like two weeks of total isolation from anything that was once part of his past life, he felt the strongest longing for the presence of another human being, someone or something that he could have mutual communication with. Was it only human that he desired something he had never believed he had been taken with? How could it be so if he was so much less than a man now that all that makes one a man had long since disappeared from him? A sensation of weight once more gradually descended upon his body and consciousness, and he scrunched his eyes tightly. He placed a broad hand over his long pointed face, silent. There was no point to any of this, was there? There was no way he could make it back to continental land, or rather that he couldn't ever leave what was probably a supernatural dimension where unusual and malevolent creatures dwelled and dark shadows of insidious intent jumped around the corner of his eyes. A shroud fell upon Wilson's mind as he contemplated his doomed predicament for what felt like the umpteenth time. There really is nothing to live for here…

"Oh, you stupid tree!"

Wilson's eyes snapped open; the breaking of dawn light filled his eyes. His mental wallowing paused mid-sentence, standing there in the same position very quietly. It was as though all the sounds and movements of the forest had been stilled, and an eerie silence pressed on his ears as he tuned everything out after hearing the sound of another human's voice.

_That.. no, that wasn't in my head. _

He slowly turned, and faced the direction the voice came from.

_That was almost too real. There.. could there possibly be another.. another prisoner? On this island, with me?_

Wilson never even contemplated the idea of a mimicking animal or an illusion. He looked back towards his camp for a prolonged moment, and then headed out into the forest.


	2. Heat

Wilson pushed aside branches and shrubbery as he trumped through the quiet forest, nothing but lightening bleakness all around him.

_It was someone's voice, wasn't it? There had to have been someone else that shouted somewhere in the woods._

He suddenly came to a halt; over the crunching of his footsteps and presence sweeping through the forest life, he thought he heard a gasp. He stood still as stone, hearing nothing but the background sound of his heart pumping rapidly, all thoughts of today's breakfast gone from his mind. He slowly surveyed the trees, looking for any sign of silhouette or movement, anywhere. There had to be someone now, there simply had to be another human!

Wilson put his left foot forward slowly, the feeling of frost slowly cracking beneath his shoe. Nothing in the forest made a single sound. He took another. With his third step, he heard what sounded like a quick springing.

All of a sudden his vision went upwards and upside down; he cried out in alarm as he was caught and dragged towards the top branch of a tree by his foot. The rope held tight around his ankle came to a stop, now still as he began to gently swing from momentum like a human pendulum. Wilson was stunned; suddenly nauseous, he groaned and closed his eyes, his arms swaying beneath him slowly.

"Ugh…" He did his best not to throw up in this undignified position; he could hardly believe that he had just walked into an actual trap set by someone and was now hanging upside down by a rope. Without warning a jab came from his back, as though he had been poked hard by someone. He cried out once more, startled more so than in actual pain. He struggled and grunted, trying to turn to see who or what on this earth had just caught him like a dumb animal.

"H-Hey, get me down from here, whoever you may be!" Wilson tried to flail his arms and torso to move, but to no avail. He sighed, and then simply just hung there. He turned his head to the side, and was met with a pair of dark, inquisitive eyes. Wilson's own eyes widened slowly; he was looking into the otherwise-upside face of an equally thunderstruck person who was staring right back at him. It was a girl, he realized. She had a sharp, angular face with dark messy bangs and pigtails, and was wearing simple but proper clothes that were from his own world. Wilson was at a complete loss for words.

"I.. you.. are you a human..?" Wilson stammered, suddenly coming to face with the fact that he has almost one hundred percent likely come across the first human he's seen in weeks, and here he was dirty and strung up to a tree. He quickly dusted any clumps of dirt and grime off his maroon vest. The girl slowly nodded in response, with her hands passively fumbling with what appeared to be a lighter of some sorts in her hands.

"You're real, right?" The girl's pretty voice was like music to Wilson's ears. He was almost overcome to have found another person that he almost didn't respond.

"Ah, er, yes, yes I'm real. Is.. is this your trap?" He tried using his other foot to push the rope knot over his ensnared one. "I'd highly appreciate your help in getting me down from here."

The girl quickly nodded.

"Oh, right, sorry." She ran over to the other side of the tree and took the secured rope holding Wilson's weight, slowly lowering it so that he was safely on the ground. When she came back round after Wilson was sitting up freeing himself of his binds. He stood back up, brushed himself off once more, and stood there awkwardly for a moment, completely forgetting about the cold. He was at least a head over her. The girl silently stared back at him, unsure of what to say for a brief bit. "Erm, my name is Willow," she blurted out, still fumbling with her lighter. Wilson nodded, gaining his senses back, and smiled. "My name is Wilson, pleased to meet you under this unfortunately dire circumstance."

Willow smiled back, and looked back down at her lighter shyly. Wilson looked at her lighter, trying to look for something else to say.

"So, is that a lighter?" Willow grinned and held it even tighter.

"Yeah, it's my most prized possession actually. I sort of have an affinity for fire, I guess." She brought the lighter up to her eyes and eyed the curves and colours on on the casing. All of a sudden, Wilson's stomach growled audibly. His face became hot and flushed, feeling sheepish.

"Er, I didn't really eat yet today.." He suddenly remembered that he had a fresh rabbit cooking over a spit back at his camp, but then realized it must've been burnt to a crisp at this point.

"Well you can come to my camp for a bite to eat. I have a lot of food there! Most of it is cooked, I hope you don't mind." She walked further into the forest, looking behind her waiting for Wilson to follow. He nodded in gratitude, feeling greatly happier than he has for all the weeks he's been in this horrible place.

"Yes, that would be great actually." He followed behind her as they trekked over the cold ground, the frosty ice giving way to their warm paired footsteps.


End file.
